


Useful

by darthmelyanna, miera



Series: stargate_ren [9]
Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Renaissance, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-11
Updated: 2007-02-11
Packaged: 2019-02-06 20:23:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12825372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darthmelyanna/pseuds/darthmelyanna, https://archiveofourown.org/users/miera/pseuds/miera
Summary: Winter has set in and Sir John tries to keep himself busy. Set a short time after "The Dangling Conversation."





	Useful

**Author's Note:**

> All the blame for this one is on me. *runs and hides*

In all his life, John had not seen weather as tempestuous as the storm that arrived shortly after Solstice. He had not known thunder and lightning could accompany a snow storm. Winds howled about the palace and the blizzard outside was so thick, he could not see more than a few paces into the storm.

Even the usual bustle of the royal court seemed muted by the fierceness of the weather, though the queen still remained in meetings and councils most of the day. John amused himself by lounging about in Rodney McKay's chambers, listening to the man rant about Lady Samantha. Some argument had arisen between them, which could have been put easily to rights had Rodney gone to the lady and apologized. John reminded Rodney of that at least once a day, though the shipwright scoffed at the suggestion repeatedly. John wondered how the two of them would manage to continue working together once the weather improved and construction of the ships resumed.

He also found himself in company with Dr. Beckett frequently. Unlike the rest of the queen's advisors, Carson was closer to John's own age, and was also less likely to look at John with suspicion in every gaze.

The court gossips were still going on about John and Kate. He had done absolutely nothing to encourage the rumors swirling about them, other than be as friendly toward the lady as he ever had been. Kate seemed to be unconcerned about the gossip, but John stayed a safe distance from Captain Lorne, just in case.

After several days of the terrible weather, the blizzard abruptly ceased one morning. By midday, cracks were appearing in the dark clouds that had shrouded the land. By the afternoon, the sun had come out and was blinding everyone with the light gleaming off the great drifts of snow.

Now John found employment, as most of the men in the palace began to work on digging the pathways and roads clear with shovels and brooms. The men were full of energy, and even as he strained his back with the unfamiliar task of lifting the heavy snow, John found himself enjoying the sense of camaraderie, as well as their acceptance of his help without any of the sidelong glances he still suffered from some of the nobility.

He worked his way around the side of the palace, following what he hoped was the right path along the inner wall, until he found himself outside of the queen's private garden. Several of the black-clad royal guards were standing awkwardly near the entrance.

He soon discovered the reason for their discomfort. The queen was busily sweeping her way around the paths in the garden. The men were watching, clearly struggling against the instinct to offer her help. But guardsmen could not distract themselves with such tasks when they were with the queen, so they were forced to watch in silence.

John watched her as well, unable to help himself for a moment. Since Solstice Night, when she had told him the fate of her husband, Elizabeth had not spent much time in his company. He sensed that she was worried about revealing so much to him, and their friendship was so lately healed he feared to push her. But her tale, and what he gleaned from things she had not said, had been on his mind.

His own childhood had ended abruptly at the age of fourteen as well. He could not help but think they were both robbed of something precious.

Elizabeth paused in her energetic sweeping, leaning on her broom and wiping her forehead with the back of one gloved hand. Her cheeks and nose were pink from the cold but her eyes sparkled with the exercise. She surveyed her handiwork and in the process spotted him. "Sir John."

"Majesty," he said, with a nod of his head.

She narrowed her eyes at the shovel which he leaned against. "Has the exertion of shoveling proved too much for the hearty Caldoran warrior?" she asked archly.

"No, my lady. I found the exercise to be a relief, in fact. I dislike being cooped up for long periods."

She looked contemplative for a moment, but then regarded him warily. "Hmm. Then I wonder why you would laze about and watch the queen exert herself without offering your assistance?"

For a moment, a highly flirtatious response hovered on his lips, but John settled for an innocent look instead. "I was merely studying your technique, my lady, to see how a native to this climate would set about the task."

Something about her answering smile made warnings sound in his head, but she crooked a gloved finger at him and he obeyed. "Very well. Come here and observe."

Once he was nearer, she turned as if back to her task, leaving him wholly unprepared for a large swath of snow to be cast from her broom all over his face.

Icy cold water dripped onto his neck as he stared in shock. Elizabeth was immediately overcome by a fit of laughter that turned her pink cheeks bright red. Underneath his ire, John knew the momentary discomfort was worth her reaction.

"Oh my," Elizabeth gasped, holding her side. "I appear to have made a snow-knight."

John shook himself, brushing at the snow clinging to his cloak and sleeves. Impulsively, he pulled a long face. "Indeed, my lady, it is most uncharitable of you."

"Why is that?"

He waved. "It is not as though I can seek retaliation." He wondered slightly at his own daring, but since their first meeting, Elizabeth had possessed a strange power to compel him to speak things no one in their right senses would say aloud. He could feel the shock of the guards at his words, the cold air carrying the conversation clearly.

He was relieved when the corners of Elizabeth's mouth turned up in a mischievous smile which did him good to see. She waved magnanimously. "I would not deny you satisfaction, sir. I give you leave to try to take your revenge."

They stared at each other for a moment. In spite of their audience, he was unable to resist. John grabbed a handful of snow, forming it into a ball and throwing it swiftly, but Elizabeth ducked and twisted away, clearly more familiar with this style of combat than he was. His missile struck her in the back, and she retaliated by tossing a loose ball at him. Her aim was terrible and missed him by a wide space, which only made her pout for a moment.

Then she seemed to realize he was preparing his next attempt. Her eyes grew wide and she ran behind the fountain.

John gave chase and they began to pelt one another mercilessly, laughing like children. Both of them were sopping wet within a few minutes, John more so for he lost his footing in a drift and fell. Elizabeth seized the opportunity to strike at close range, but John held up his hands. "Wait!"

She stood there, snow in one hand, eyebrow raised. "Do you yield?"

He nodded. "Yes, my lady. You are the victor." He held out a hand as a peace offering, as if asking for her aid in standing.

She eyed him warily. As soon as his hand enclosed hers, and before he could think twice about it, he pulled her down into the drift with him. Her shriek of outrage was muffled when she sank into the snow. She floundered for a moment and then slapped him on the arm as soon as she was upright again.

" _Now_ I yield," he said, flopping onto his back, exhausted.

Elizabeth dissolved into giggles as she brushed the snow from her hair and clothes. The chase had loosened several long, thick curls of dark hair that now hung around her reddened face. John thought idly that she had not looked so relaxed since Solstice, and that he somehow preferred her disheveled like this rather than in the finest gown she owned.

Thankfully it was Laura who found them lying side by side and breathless in the snow. Any of Elizabeth's male advisors would certainly have looked askance on such behavior, both on John's part and on the queen's.

"My lady, you are needed in your audience chamber shortly." John saw the grin on Laura's face but at least he was sure she would not speak of this to anyone but Elizabeth. "Perhaps you should go in and change beforehand?"

Elizabeth gasped for breath, wiping futilely at her wet clothes. John struggled to his feet and helped her stand. "That is an excellent suggestion, Laura. Sir John," she managed to say before she departed, and he was sensible enough to recognize the shift from friend to sovereign. "I would speak to you this evening, after supper."

He bowed, and handed her the broom she had dropped earlier. "I am at your service, my lady."

She departed the garden laughing and John smiled to himself as he resumed his work.

 

***

Silvanus snorted loudly as the bitter wind swept a drift across the narrow path in the snow. John patted the horse's neck. "Easy, old friend. We're almost to the village."

Because of the storm, the queen had not heard much from Athos, and she was curious to hear how Lady Teyla's people and the Hoffan refugees were faring during the winter. The previous night, she had bidden John go to Athos on her behalf.

Clearly Elizabeth had taken his desire not to be cooped up in the palace the whole winter to heart. Now John made his way towards the village. His progress was much slower than he had hoped, for the road was almost invisible in places. By the time he rounded the curve of the road to see the village, the lamps were being lit.

"Sir John!" Jinto pelted towards him, coming from the trees so swiftly Silvanus startled. John waved a hand in greeting, unable not to smile at the boy's eager welcome. He swung off the horse and walked with Jinto to the village.

Many of the Athosians were bustling about the square. Halling greeted him with a nod. "Sir John, you are fortunate you have arrived safely."

John tensed. "Why is that? Is it the Wraith?"

"No, thank the ancestors. The bay is clogged with ice," Halling waved towards the shallow inlet which Athos lay alongside. "It will freeze solid soon, and their ships will not dare to forge into the ice. But a storm is bearing down on us and it will likely not be safe to travel after this evening."

"Another one?" John blurted in dismay.

"Can you not feel the change? The air has grown much colder, and clouds began to gather on the horizon at midday." Halling looked puzzled.

John shrugged. "I was fighting my way through the drifts from Atlantis most of the day. Can you tell if this storm is as bad as the last one?"

"There is no way to say," Halling answered noncommittally. "We should see to your horse. Lady Teyla will be pleased with your company."

***

Though it snowed heavily for several days, the second storm did not arrive with the fury of the first. The winds turned painfully cold and white snow blanketed the world again, falling thick and fast and covering the barely cleared roads. John found himself trapped in Athos for the duration.

He slept on a pallet in the main room of Halling's house, with the tall man on the other side of the fireplace and Jinto sleeping closest to the burning logs for warmth. The upstairs rooms, including the one John had used during his month-long stay in the fall, were too cold to sleep in comfortably in such weather.

Even during the storm, the Athosians were never still. Ice on the ocean meant the Wraith were unlikely to appear, but Halling still supervised patrols at least once a day, and the watch was still set at night. Constant effort kept the main street of the village clear of the worst of the drifts. After spending an afternoon helping shovel the snow, which seemed to fall faster than it could be cleared, John sat by the fire and wondered how it was possible to sweat and feel the burning pain of his frozen limbs at the same time.

His one comfort, he thought grumpily, was that at least Elizabeth was not here to tease him about it.

On the storm's third night, the weather had lightened somewhat, and the three of them made their way to the tavern. Much of the village was assembled, and John sat quietly, listening to the people talk into the evening. Jinto and the other children ran about, and the roaring fires at both ends of the room as well as the press of bodies made him feel fully warm for the first time in days. Though that perhaps was also due to the two full mugs of ale he had consumed already.

Or that Teyla kept looking at him. He would turn and find her staring at him, but when she realized he had noticed, she looked away.

If she had been any other woman, John would have thought she was trying to flirt with him.

One of the older men produced a fiddle and began to play, adding to the background noise. His mug was refilled a third time and he made himself drink more slowly, even though Halling said the storm would not be over for at least another day. More than one of the Athosians were taking advantage of that fact and drinking themselves into what promised to be spectacular headaches in the morning. But John found himself wanting to keep a clear head.

He knew enough of Teyla's character to suspect that if she were interested in any man, she would likely not hesitate to express it in some fashion, unless there was some reason it would not be proper for her to do so. In their case, John could think of no reason, except for the obvious fact that he was a disgraced exile from a rival nation, and Teyla was the second most powerful woman in Atalan, being the highest-ranked woman among the college of lords.

Though he did have the friendship of the queen on his side. Elizabeth had made it clear that her favor had not been withdrawn and that John still had her trust. He was deeply grateful for that. Elizabeth had few real friends around her, people whose opinion was not affected by age and social position. He was proud that she called for his advice on occasion.

Teyla, by contrast, did not solicit his opinions all that often. Though the two women were not far apart in age, Teyla appeared more poised, more restrained than Elizabeth. It was that calmness that drew John to her, in fact. He was curious at times whether her maturity was real, or an effective mask she held to protect herself from something.

If John had been better at resisting mysteries, he would never have come to Atalan in the first place.

Teyla was speaking with a family of people John recognized as Hoffans, refugees from a destroyed village who were wintering with the Athosians until their homes could be rebuilt. Once again she glanced in his direction and quickly looked away. She was wearing a dark-colored gown, drawn tight about her torso with a number of cords. Her hair hung loosely over her shoulders, and John knew he was not the only man whose eyes were following her movements appreciatively.

His imagination all-too-easily conjured the possibilities of what he would do if she were to make him an offer tonight. His blood heated with something aside from the fire and the drink at the thought. A man would have to be absent all sense not to recognize that Teyla was a very beautiful woman, in addition to being intelligent and graceful. And John believed himself to be a man of better than average sense.

Despite his fantasies, he had never received any impression that the lady thought of him as anything other than a friend. And John had not forgotten that Teyla had accepted him and given him her steadfast loyalty, even when his birthplace had been revealed. She had asked no questions nor demanded any explanations. He had been admitted to her trust and as far as she was concerned, had done nothing to break it, and her friendship had helped him survive the month when he was out of Elizabeth's good graces.

He would not jeopardize that friendship for any thing in the world.

The musician concluded his song, and a chorus of voices rose up. "My lady, my lady, will you sing for us?"

Teyla sighed reluctantly, but she was pressed eagerly by several people. With a small smile, she got up and stood next to the fireplace. Quiet descended on the room, and she looked at John for a moment before beginning to sing.

The song told the story of a soldier, long from home serving his king, who sought his childhood sweetheart upon returning, only to find his village under threat. The soldier stood his ground against the invaders, saving his people and winning his lady in the end. As Teyla sang the words of the battle, the lone man standing in the face of great numbers, John became conscious that a number of people were looking in his direction. His ears burned and he fixed his eyes on the fire behind Teyla. He had done nothing but what he was able to do to help the Athosians when he first arrived, and the hero-worship, especially from the young boys, made him tremendously uncomfortable.

When the song was finished to fervent applause, Teyla declined to sing another and slowly made her way through the room to the corner where John sat. He attempted to stand but she waved before he had gained his feet. She settled herself next to him. "How are you faring, Sir John?"

He smiled. "Another mug of ale, my lady, and I may begin to sing," he said lightly.

Teyla chuckled, but he noted that her eyes were serious. "And do you find enough to occupy yourself with? I realize you were not intending to remain in Athos above a night or two at the most."

He shrugged, suddenly suspicious. "I have been aiding the men in keeping the village paths clear."

Teyla folded her hands on the table. "Sir John, there is a favor I wish to ask of you."

Despite his loyalty, he checked himself just before he could agree to anything blindly. "My lady?"

"I was hoping you would agree to teach the younger men and boys to handle a bow and arrow." John realized that the song had been no accident. She had purposely brought up the Wraith attack he had witnessed to bring pressure on him to agree. He shook his head ruefully.

Teyla continued, looking earnestly at him. "I know you do not agree, but it is my belief that your presence was of great help to us in the fall. If more of my people were able to defend the village against the Wraith in such fashion..."

There she stopped and John dropped his voice. "Would that not risk bringing a reprisal from them down on Athos?"

Teyla sighed. "It is possible, however, I believe the benefit would outweigh that risk."

He wondered if perhaps she was alone in that opinion and her hesitancy over the course of the evening suddenly made more sense. He put away his own embarrassment over his less-than-honorable thoughts. "I would be glad to render any assistance I can, my lady," he told her quietly. He thought for a moment about her request. "We could use the tavern for practice during the day, or one of the barns. But I have only my own bow, which will aid you little. We shall need to make more." The younger boys in particular would hardly be capable of drawing a full-size longbow, at least not yet. "As well as arrows and targets to practice with."

Teyla looked slightly dubious. "You are capable of accomplishing this? Fabricating bows and so forth?"

He scoffed. "My old arms master would be offended, my lady. A good archer knows his weapons through and through, that he can care for them without the aid of others."

Teyla smiled but the words called up memories that John did not care to dwell on. One of the reasons the arms master had insisted on his training was that in the heat of a battle, it was not possible to run to a tent and wait for a craftsman to fix a broken bowstring. John had learned that for himself.

He pushed the thoughts away, but found Teyla's eyes fixed on him sympathetically. She either knew or had guessed at parts of his history John had not spoken of with anyone in Atalan, not even the queen, except in the most general terms. She said nothing, only placed a warm hand on his arm. "Thank you, Sir John. Halling and the others will help you procure what you need to begin in the morning."

She rose and left him. He could still feel the shadow of her touch on his forearm and he considered that remaining in Athos for some time might not be the worst option before him. He was mostly in the way at the palace these days, and he disliked feeling useless. If he remained here, he would be able to spend more time with Teyla, and he knew that Elizabeth was devoted to the well-being of her people, especially the Athosians. She would wish him to stay and accomplish this task.

It would also remove him from the gossip-mongers who continued to whisper about himself and Kate, or worse, himself and the queen. The peace and quiet of the village would be a welcome respite.

No sooner had he had the thought then the music resumed, and tables were abruptly cleared as several people began to dance. John smiled, downing the rest of his drink and maneuvering through the crowd to speak to Halling.


End file.
